Ye cats that at midnighte spit love at each other,
Who best feel the pangs of a passionate lover. 
I appeal to your scratches and your tattered fur,
If the business of Love be no more than to purr. 
Old Lady Gimalkin with her gooseberry eyes,
Knew something when a kitten, for why she is wise;
You find by experiences, the love-fit's soon o'er.
Puss! Puss! lasts not long, but turns to Cat-whore!